|
|
||
|
Doesn’t that just sound so poetic? In my mind, it evokes images of the south of France. Of a verdant garden bound by a stone wall, boughs of weeping trees gently swaying in the breeze, bees buzzing amidst flowers of lavender and sunflower and rose, pillow soft white clouds floating in an impossibly blue sky, the [...] Once I stood in the shadow of van Gogh. I recall that moment like it was yesterday. Stepping into the room was like finally finding the puzzle piece to fit a space. As if, for that moment, I completed the picture. Have you ever felt that feeling? That chill when you stand in a spot where [...] It happens that the summer I was 37 years old I stood in the room the Auberge Ravoux, in Auvers-sur-Oise, France, where Vincent van Gogh died. The summer he was 37 years old. Photo courtesy of Musée D’Orsay In Provence, I ate lavender flavored ice cream and wild rosemary sprigs I picked off the bushes. As you know, I don’t often fondly recall food experiences from my travels, as I am the anti-gourmand. But those two experiences stand out in my mind and have for a long time. That trip was 2004! It’s July. You know what that means: Not working on Friday afternoons Like Renoir, Monet, van Gogh…it’s time to do some painting in the south of France. Lavender, sunflowers, picturesque medieval villages, the brilliant sunlight that seems to only fall in that part of the world. (Sigh) I’d like to try one out of these learning vacations. But a few of the programs offering painting and art [...] Eating lavender ice cream on a warm and sunny spring afternoon while strolling through the incredible, colorful village of Roussillon–one of Les Plus Beaux Villages de France. How did I end up owning a jar of pieds et paquets? That, indeed, is a logical question; as I am not known for my love of eating either feet or stomach. Picture it: Provence in May. Small group of writers–class each morning, excursion each afternoon, travel writing homework each evening. The final assignment: interview a [...] On a lovely and more strenuous than expected hike through Provence, our ragtag little group of writers came upon some wild rosemary growing atop a hill overlooking a field of lavandin (a hybrid, as true lavender only grows above about 2000 feet and we were not quite that high). It’s safe to assume that I pretty [...] |
||
|
Reproduction of material from manyachylinski.com without written permission is strictly prohibited.
Copyright © 2012 Manya Chylinski - All Rights Reserved |
||